


Ice

by Purseplayer



Series: Klaine Advent 2013 [9]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 12:57:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1094128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purseplayer/pseuds/Purseplayer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone knew the Ice King - or at least they thought they did.  Fill for Klaine Advent Prompt 9: Ice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ice

Everyone knew the Ice King lived alone in the castle on top of the mountain.  For the past decade the only villager to see him was Sue, the local witch and his liaison in the community.  But all the crucial details of the King’s life were common knowledge, or so they thought.  They knew that everything about the man who ruled them was cold and cruel.  He had ivory porcelain skin, piercing icy-blue eyes, and a frozen heart to match.

It was rumored that he drew people up the mountain, waited for them to freeze from the harsh, unforgiving weather, collected their bodies and had Sue charm them to serve him eternally.  It was rumored that he’d killed his own parents, the former King and Queen, or rather that they’d died of broken hearts when their son’s demeanor refused to melt.

It was with this knowledge—this fear of her family’s fate—that Bridgett Anderson approached the witch on her makeshift throne empty handed.  Since the death of her husband in late spring, it had been all Bridgett could do to feed herself and her son, Blaine, and keep a roof over their heads.  She had nothing left over to offer up for the winter tribute.

She prostrated herself at Sue’s feet.  “I’m sorry, your Highness.  It was a hard year.  I have nothing to give.”

Sue stared at the woman for a long moment; Bridgett could feel the weight of her eyes run through her body, a creeping chill.  “Get up,” she commanded at last.

Trembling, Bridgett obeyed.

“You have a son, do you not?  And how old is he this year?”

“He’ll be fifteen come May, Madame.”

“Yes,” the witch said, tapping the tips of her spread fingertips together lightly.  “Yes, that will do quite nicely.”

For the first time of their encounter, Bridgett dared to look up to meet Sue’s eyes.  “You can’t mean…”

“The King requires a companion, a boy.  Consider yourself lucky.  Your son will be your tribute for the coming season.”

“Please,” Bridgett begged, tears springing to her eyes.  “Please, he’s all I have…”

Sue waved her hand dismissively and smiled coldly.  “Someone will be along to fetch him tomorrow.  May the season be kind to you.”

A wretched cry left Bridgett’s lips as a guard escorted her out of the room.

The winter had never seemed crueler.

*******

The boy was beautiful, with eyes of amber and curls the color of midnight.  It would be his greatest task, Kurt decided, to elicit his smile.  Kurt was certain the warmth of it would finally begin to melt his frozen heart.

The curse had stolen his emotion but had left him basic instinct.  He could want things.  Sometimes he could even need them. 

What Kurt wanted most was to _feel_.

Blaine was quiet, withdrawn, obedient, but Kurt could sense that the true nature of the boy was something far different.  Sometimes he sent him about simple tasks, but mostly Kurt required him to talk.  They played board games and shared meals and even did frivolous crafts, once Kurt realized it was something the boy enjoyed.

He never complained, never protested.  And then one day it happened.

Blaine _smiled_.  He _smiled at Kurt_.  And something stirred within the King, made the corners of his mouth threaten to tip up in response.

It took three more days for it to really happen, but when it did it was like a dam had burst within him.  The world became colorful as it had not been since he was ten, since the curse that stole his humanity had taken his parent’s lives. 

It was painted in shades of Blaine.

Blaine’s laughter.  Blaine’s scent.  The feel of Blaine’s lips against his when Kurt finally gave into the urge to take his mouth, pressing him back against the wall, Blaine’s hands flying up and finally clasping tight to Kurt’s shoulders, the tiny whimpers he made as his hips twitched into Kurt’s own.

Kurt could feel _everything_.

*******

The people were astonished the day they met their King.  He carried himself with grace, regality.  His eyes sparkled—the same blue as the cornflowers in springtime—and his smile was warm enough to fill all their hearts with joy, particularly when he looked to the young man standing beside him.

Mother and son were reunited.  The twice-yearly tributes required of the kingdom’s citizens were replaced with a fairer system that the entire community could happily live with.  The King was in love with a peasant boy, and his people were in love with him.

And they all lived happily ever after.


End file.
